


We are alive, after all

by akisazame



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Existential Angst, Gen, Inspired by Nier Automata, M/M, Victuuri Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 16:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13574778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akisazame/pseuds/akisazame
Summary: Yuuri was not used to hearing noises this far from the city center. He was used to hearing nothing at all.All of Yuuri's programming, all of his training, told him he should turn away. He should go back to the city center, relinquish everything he'd scavenged, and report a disturbance. But whatever the noise was, it didn't sound dangerous. It sounded... soothing. Comforting.It sounded like something he remembered. Like something he wanted to hear again.





	We are alive, after all

**Author's Note:**

> for Victuuri Week 2018 day 6 AU prompt (Sci-Fi). thanks to [LittleLostStar](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLostStar) for the beta and moral support.

On his darkest days, Yuuri often wondered if his continued existence had a purpose.

Darkest days, of course, was a metaphor. Every day was equally dark in the city ruins, only barely illuminated by the meager light of a fading sun. To Yuuri, darkness was a word that had long ago ceased to have any practical meaning when applied to nature and the dying world around him. For him, darkness was a state of mind, and it only ever seemed to get darker.

Many other androids had chosen to erase their memories rather than continue on with the constant reminder of how their world used to be. It was easy when the process of forgetting only required swapping out one set of chips for another, but Yuuri could never tell if the androids who'd done it seemed any happier. It was a difficult puzzle for Yuuri to unravel, the idea of something suddenly being missing, but also never knowing that you'd had it in the first place. He didn't like to think about it, which was why he'd never done it, choosing instead to retain his memories and struggle every day with the consequences.

On some days, those memories bolstered him: the brilliant blue of the sky, the warmth of the sun, plants that had leaves and flowers, beautiful living things that came in all colors of the rainbow. On other days, those memories felt like a curse.

Yuuri did have a purpose in the city, of course. He still had a functioning scanner, which meant he was among the best suited to wander the outskirts of the city in search of parts. The androids in Yuuri's camp still managed to power themselves and the electronics they needed with an array of solar panels that soaked the sun's feeble light, but no machinery had ever been built to last forever. Yuuri's purpose was to scan for any human relics that might be useful and then bring them back to the androids' stash in the city center. Most days he could be casual about it, roaming the crumbled streets with something approaching leisure; other days, like today, he had a specific target in mind.

It was days like these, when Yuuri had to roam to the furthest reaches of the city ruins in search of something special, that he felt the darkest. Out here, the buildings had not been looted as thoroughly, making it easier to forget that humanity had gone extinct decades ago. It wasn't only the technology left somewhat intact, but other things as well; clothing in closets, posters on walls, stuffed animals on beds — all sorts of objects that only served to remind the androids that their creators, living beings whom they had admired or even loved, were now gone forever.

It hurt too much to even contemplate. Today, Yuuri was doing his best to ignore it.

The day's order was for memory chips, which meant searching for computers. It was the most commonly needed item for android repair, which meant that Yuuri had to go farther and farther from the city center each time. It wasn't a surprise, therefore, that his scanner eventually led him to a part of the city he didn't recognize at all. The buildings were all concrete, and in various stages of disrepair; some still towered several stories high, while others had crumbled and caved in. There were still some scraggly remains of trees dotting the edges of the streets, long since stripped of their leaves. Everything was grey, silent, devoid of life. Yuuri walked slowly, as if he was afraid to disturb anything. As if there was anything to disturb.

The first few buildings he checked had televisions and cable boxes and modems, but the computers were either gone or had had their chips picked clean. He found three cell phones in another building, which were less than ideal but could be used in a pinch. He was about to check what he suspected may have been an office building when he heard a noise from very far away.

Yuuri was not used to hearing noises this far from the city center. He was used to hearing nothing at all.

All of Yuuri's programming, all of his training, told him he should turn away. He should go back to the city center, relinquish everything he'd scavenged, and report a disturbance. But whatever the noise was, it didn't sound dangerous. It sounded... soothing. Comforting.

It sounded like something he remembered. Like something he wanted to hear again.

Yuuri didn't run, even though he felt compelled to do so. He was careful, sticking to the shadows, letting the buildings hide his approach. As he got closer to the source of the noise, his suspicions were proven correct: it was music. Not the songs that androids sometimes sang to themselves, recreations of melodies stored in their memory chips, but actual recorded music. Electronics that could play music were among the most useful for repairing various android parts; it had been years since Yuuri had heard music like this. He kept moving forward, following the sound, desperate to find its source, until he finally came to a small clearing that may have once been a city park but was now dead and frozen over.

The remains of the sun were high in the grey sky, filling the clearing with diffuse light. Yuuri pressed his back to the nearest building's wall, slowly inching towards the open space, but not into it. The music, he could now tell, was coming from a small speaker connected to a cell phone set up at the edge of the clearing; this close, the sound was overwhelming compared to the all-encompassing silence Yuuri was used to. At first, Yuuri thought the speaker was abandoned, though he couldn't imagine for what purpose; after a moment, he realized he was wrong.

There was an android in the clearing. And he was... dancing?

No, Yuuri realized as his sensors became more accustomed to the volume of the music. There was another noise detectable beneath the song, a gentle scraping of metal against the icy ground.

Yuuri had never seen an android ice skating. That, he remembered with a sharp pang, was something the humans used to do.

The android moved gracefully across the ice, slowly gliding and spinning in time with the music, his long silver hair trailing behind him. Yuuri kept his back against the wall, terrified that he would interrupt and scare the other android away. He watched silently as the android turned so he was skating backwards, then, abruptly, launched into a jump.

Yuuri had barely moved the whole time, reluctant to draw attention to himself, but for the moments that the other android was twirling in midair, he felt frozen to the spot. Time slowed, stretched, suspended. His eyes refocused, counting the rotations, one, two, three, four.

There was a sharp crack as the android landed on the ice, heavy yet somehow still elegant. He spun away again, his movements slowing along with the music, until he came to a stop with his arms crossed over his chest and his face tipped up towards the pale sky.

The world went quiet again. Yuuri couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't think. It was the most beautiful thing he'd seen since... well. The most beautiful thing he'd seen in a very long time.

"Hello," said the android, and Yuuri realized that he wasn't as hidden as he believed. In fact, the other android was staring right at him.

"I- I'm so sorry," Yuuri said, pushing himself away from the wall and putting up his hands in some kind of surrender. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't want... you were so..."

The android dropped his pose, then glided towards where Yuuri was standing. He stumbled a little once he was out of the clearing, the skates he was wearing not suited for ground that wasn't solid ice, but he managed not to fall. Part of Yuuri wanted to flee, but he was still rooted to the spot. When the other android reached him, he held out one delicate arm and pressed his palm against the side of Yuuri's face. "Hello," he said again, softer. He sounded almost awestruck, which Yuuri didn't think could possibly be right. Yuuri hadn't been the one dancing on the ice.

Yuuri slowly reached his own hand out to mirror the other android's gesture. When he placed his palm against the android's cheek, the android made a soft sound and tilted his head, leaning into the touch. The two of them just stood like that, gazing into each other's eyes, for what seemed like a very long time.

"Thank you," Yuuri said, finally, because he felt like he should.

In response, the other android surged forward, nearly knocking Yuuri over with the force of his enveloping hug. "No, no," the android said, his lips moving close to Yuuri's ear. "Thank _you._ Thank you so, _so_ much." The android shuddered, as if overcome with emotion. When he spoke again, his voice sounded sharp and fragile. "I've been alone for such a long time."

\--

The other android, Yuuri came to learn, was named Victor. He seemed reticent to talk much about himself other than that. What Victor did love to talk about was humans.

"I found the videos on a computer," Victor told Yuuri as they made their way back to the camp at the city center. His voice was soft, almost reverent. "Hundreds of videos, hours of footage, all of humans ice skating. They used to have special arenas for it, back before everything was frozen over, and they'd hold competitions and give medals. I saw the videos and I knew I had to try it."

Yuuri kept stealing glances at Victor as he spoke, the briefest of looks before his gaze danced away again. "And that's when you found the music?"

"No, no, I had the music already." Victor had gathered up the cell phone and the speaker before they'd left the clearing; upon closer inspection, Yuuri could see that they weren't entirely intact, instead pieced together from various mismatched parts. "I've been collecting human artifacts for a long time. The wonderful thing about technology is I can fit a lot of things into a small space." He patted the knapsack he was carrying, which had several rolled up sheets of paper poking out of the front end and three cords of various lengths dangling out of the back. 

There was a brief silence; when Victor spoke again, his voice was strangely tight. "It's foolish, maybe, holding on like this. But it's important to me."

There were so many questions Yuuri wanted to ask, so many ways he wanted to try and unravel the mystery that was Victor, but he didn't say any of those things. Instead he said, "I don't think it's foolish but... perhaps you should keep the contents of your bag to yourself."

One of Yuuri's glances finally coincided with one of Victor's, perfectly timed for Yuuri to see all the warmth drain from Victor's eyes. It was only a instant; Victor turned away quickly, again tipping his head towards the ruined sky. "Perhaps," he said, voice as sharp as steel.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Yuuri wondered if he should say something, about the camp or about his fellow androids or about their way of life. Would knowing make Victor change his mind about coming back with Yuuri? Or would it be worse if Yuuri said nothing at all? He spent so long following the logic trails of each possibility that soon the camp was visible in the distance, effectively making the choice for him.

The androids' camp was in what was once a parking garage; the picked-apart and rusted ruins of sedans and minivans were pushed aside or rearranged to demarcate living or working quarters. A large cargo van that was missing its back doors was situated in the garage's entrance, and a young-looking female android with her hair pulled into a bun was perched on the vehicle's roof, peering resolutely out into the city ruins. When she saw Yuuri in the distance, she raised a hand in greeting. Victor, to Yuuri's surprise, immediately waved back.

"That's Lutz," Yuuri heard himself murmuring before he'd consciously decided to speak. He could sense the way Victor glanced at him, and whether it was surprise at the break in their mutual silence or at the fact that the android had a name based in ice skating terminology, Yuuri couldn't be sure. The androids hadn't named themselves, and Yuuri was the only one who had any context for what the name meant. Had been the only one, before Victor. "She's security. Loop and Axel are the other two in the triad. I'm not sure which one is dormant right now." Security triads worked in shifts, with one rotating out to rest and recharge for eight hours, but Yuuri was sure he didn't need to explain that to Victor. The triads were in fairly heavy circulation right before... "I'll have to introduce you to Minako first," Yuuri said, interrupting his own thoughts before they could spiral any further.

Conveniently, Minako was with Kenjirou, the two of them huddled over a battered old tablet, probably reviewing the list of electronics and supplies in the camp's stash. They looked up when Yuuri approached, Victor trailing behind him. 

"Well," Minako said, pulling herself to her feet, "that's quite a find you've brought back this time, Yuuri."

Yuuri felt Victor shift behind him, so that Yuuri was firmly between Victor and Minako. It might've been funny if Yuuri didn't agree that Minako was terrifying. "You make it sound like we're going to scrap him for parts." He meant for it to sound like a joke, to diffuse some tension, but it came out nervous.

"Probably not," Minako replied, tilting her head to get a better look at Victor. "It'd be a shame to crack open an android who's so easy on the eyes."

Kenjirou, who'd spent the whole conversation looking wide-eyed at each of the other androids in equal measure, finally settled his gaze on Victor. Or, more specifically, Victor's ice skates, which he'd removed and were dangling from the strap of his knapsack. "What are those?"

Yuuri, of course, knew the question for what it was: what practical purpose do those serve? But Victor, who had clearly lived alone for a very long time, replied simply, "They're ice skates."

There was a time when Kenjirou would have been able to search his vast memory banks and known exactly what ice skates were. He would never have needed to ask the question in the first place. But now, he simply frowned. "For your feet? They don't seem as though they'd have much traction." He looked back at his tablet, dragging his finger along the surface. "I have a spare pair of hiking boots for requisition, if you insist on traveling in the icier parts of the city."

Alarmed at the precariousness of the conversation, Yuuri looked over his shoulder at Victor, hoping he could somehow communicate with a glance all the information he should have explained before they'd arrived at the camp in the first place. And maybe it worked, because Victor said in a perfectly cheerful voice, "I may take you up on that in the future, thank you."

"Where's Yuuko?" Yuuri asked, both to change the subject and because he was genuinely curious.

"Up on the roof," Minako answered. She still seemed fixated on Victor, staring at him as though he was a complicated puzzle to solve. Yuuri supposed he couldn't blame her; for years, the only androids in the city were the seven inhabitants of this camp. Where had Victor come from? What was he doing here? "Kenjirou found a short in one of the solar panels, so Yuuko's trying to nail down the issue." A brief glance to Yuuri, then back to Victor again. "You should go up and introduce your friend."

Friend. The androids in Yuuri's camp were family, or something resembling it. Friendship was a concept he hadn't considered for a very long time. As if the word had triggered some sort of forgotten protocol, Yuuri reached for Victor's hand and intertwined their fingers together. "His name is Victor," he said, and the name somehow felt warm in his mouth. When he glanced over at Victor's face, he was shyly smiling.

\--

There were five days of peace. Victor didn't necessarily seem comfortable around the rest of the androids, but he seemed to be managing. It was only to be expected, Yuuri thought, after so long spent alone. Victor would adapt, just like any other android. Just like they all had.

On the sixth day, Axel and Loop told Yuuri about the theft.

"You're certain?" Yuuri asked them, disbelieving.

The two of them nodded, Axel's pigtails and Loop's ponytail bobbing with the movement. "The records haven't been altered," they said, one voice from two mouths. "You brought back three cell phones last time. Now there are two."

Yuuri pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. He knew they were right, of course. Security androids weren't programmed to be mistaken. When he spoke again, it was a whisper. "And one of you saw him do it?"

Axel and Loop glanced at each other. Security triads shared a voice and interfaced with each other, but they each had their own eyes, ears, and minds. Before they spoke, they had to fact check with each other, as well as with the currently dormant unit. "No," they said finally, looking back at Yuuri.

"So this isn't based on anything," Yuuri snapped. "Something goes missing, and you automatically blame Victor. It could have been any of us." Axel and Loop didn't react outwardly, instead passively watching Yuuri's outburst with their sharp yellow eyes. It was that lack of response that caused Yuuri to stop himself and reconsider the situation. "You didn't tell Minako," he said slowly, piecing the logic together as he spoke. "Instead, you came to me first."

"We would prefer to have the item returned," Axel and Loop said. "We would prefer it to be peaceful. Had we told Minako first..."

"It wouldn't have been peaceful," Yuuri finished for them. Minako would've immediately turned on Victor, the outsider, regardless of the evidence. The triad, at least, had some level of compassion, at least for Yuuri if not for Victor. "Thanks," Yuuri said, causing Axel and Loop to smile simultaneously, their faces like a reflection in clear ice. "I'll take it from here."

As Yuuri circled the outskirts of the camp, searching for Victor, he wondered what Axel, Loop, or even Lutz really thought. Did they believe Victor was guilty? It was logical, of course. Occam's razor, the humans used to call it. Observance of facts and optimization of logic processing were two major reasons why humans had even designed security triads. But surely they also had some sense of morality? Why else would they have told Yuuri instead of Minako?

But that couldn't be it, Yuuri reminded himself as he emerged from an alleyway to find Victor sitting on the hard cold earth, the entire contents of his knapsack spread out before him. Morality was a human concept.

Yuuri had assumed Victor must have morals, which was why he felt so betrayed as he watched Victor pry open the cell phone he'd stolen from the camp's stash.

"Victor," Yuuri said, his voice echoing against the walls around them. He'd meant to sound commanding, like Minako would have. Instead it came out sad.

Victor jumped at the sound, letting both halves of the cell phone clatter to the icy ground. "Yuuri," he replied, the guilt in his voice siphoning away the remains of Yuuri's foolhardy doubt. Of course it had been Victor. That was logical.

Part of Yuuri felt angry, betrayed. He'd brought Victor back to the camp because of some misguided sense of trust. It was foolish, he realized now. He didn't know Victor at all. He only wanted Victor around because... why? Because he had a cell phone that played music? Because he'd ice skated?

Because, he realized with a sinking feeling, Victor remembered the humans. Victor was proof that the humans had existed.

Yuuri wanted to yell, at Victor or at himself, but instead he stepped forward and came to sit opposite Victor, the pile of scavenged electronics and other human objects dividing them. "If you needed a chipset for self-repair, you could've requisitioned one from Kenjirou."

Victor looked at the ground, and Yuuri knew what the answer would be. "It's not for self-repair."

"So you didn't ask." Yuuri rested one palm against the ground, then balled it into a fist. "Because you knew Kenjirou would say no. Because you know those chips are for _us._ "

"You said I should keep the contents of my bag to myself," Victor said, his tone almost bitter.

"If they knew, we'd have to requisition it!" Yuuri snapped. Victor, who'd been staring down at his pile of electronics, finally looked up. His blue eyes were so sad. "I don't want you to have to give up your memories." Victor's eyes widened at that, and Yuuri knew where he'd gone wrong. "No, no, I don't mean... I'd never mean..." He reached out suddenly, catching both of Victor's hands in both of his own. "I meant your keepsakes. The speaker, and the phone with the music, and whatever else. We'd never ask you to erase..."

"Everyone else did," Victor said. There wasn't any sort of emotion in it, no judgment, no sadness, just a statement of fact.

Yuuri released his grip, letting Victor's hands drop back down to the ground. "They did," he confirmed. For the dozenth, hundredth, thousandth time, he wished it wasn't true. The security triad had been the first to forget; it was easier for them to do their jobs without memories of pesky human qualities like moral ambiguity. Next had been Kenjirou, who'd been so consumed with grief for his human companion that he could barely function until they'd ripped that memory bank completely out of his head. Then had been Minako, who'd given some line about it being easier to lead a community if her head wasn't stuck in the past.

Yuuko and Yuuri had been the last holdouts. They'd vowed to do it together, Yuuri removing Yuuko's chips and then Yuuko removing Yuuri's. But Yuuri had changed his mind at the last minute, an awful and selfish and utterly human act; he'd removed Yuuko's memories of humans, and also all of Yuuko's memories of that day. She'd come to the next morning, disoriented; Yuuri had apologized, claiming he must have damaged something when he'd been messing with her chips. She was the mechanic, after all, not him. If she had ever figured out the truth, she'd kept it to herself.

"I don't know how to act around them," Victor admitted after the silence had stretched just a moment too long. He reached out a hand to brush against one of the rolled up pieces of paper. Yuuri wondered what they were, but didn't want to ask. Now was hardly the time, at any rate. "Everything I have, everything I love, is wrapped up in the humans." Yuuri felt a pang of something he couldn't identify and decided to ignore it. He looked up from the jumble of Victor's belongings and realized that Victor was still watching him, a plea in his blue eyes. "The humans had so much joy. How could you just let them forget?"

Yuuri bit his bottom lip, trying to contain the anger that flared in him like a virus. "Because it's not up to me, Victor," he said, someone managing to keep his voice down. "It was their choice."

"It was the wrong choice," Victor snapped back, though he didn't sound angry at all. His voice only carried the smooth authority of someone convinced they were right.

They were at an impasse, and Yuuri knew it. "I'm not going to lie for you," he said; he'd meant about the cell phone theft, but there was more to it than that now.

Victor just stared at Yuuri for several long moments before nodding assent. With careful, measured movements, Victor put all of his belongings back into his knapsack, including, Yuuri noted with a sinking feeling, the cell phone from the camp's stash. The process seemed to take forever, each second drawn out like a sustained note; and then, all too soon, Victor was finished, standing up and putting his knapsack over his shoulder and starting to walk out of Yuuri's life just as abruptly as he'd entered it.

But then, just as abruptly, Victor stopped. He was standing right next to Yuuri, close enough for their shoulders to touch. Yuuri stood perfectly still; the moment felt fragile, like ice next to a flame. The seconds stretched, still and silent, and then finally Victor turned towards Yuuri, just slightly, and pressed something into his hands. Yuuri knew without looking that it was one of the rolled up pieces of paper from Victor's knapsack; he didn't look, couldn't look, because all he could look at was Victor.

He thought Victor would say something. Then Yuuri thought maybe he was meant to say something. He needed to say thank you, at least, for the gift. But before Yuuri could say anything, Victor leaned in and kissed him.

Yuuri had all of his memories, so he could say definitively that he'd never felt quite like this before. His eyes slipped closed, either by some forgotten program or something resembling instinct, and the sensation only became stronger, sweeter, brighter. His mind started racing with all the things he wanted to say, things he should have said and needed to say, but now his mouth was occupied and they all had to wait. The humanoid body was a highly inconvenient design.

And then, too soon, Yuuri's mouth was free. He opened his eyes, ready to tell Victor that he should stay. That Yuuri needed him to stay.

But Victor was already gone.

\--

Yuuri tried to forget about Victor. The other androids in the camp certainly seemed as though they'd forgotten about Victor. If Yuuri had tried harder, then maybe everything could have gone back to the way it was before he'd met Victor in that icy clearing.

Was it different for Yuuri because he still had his memories of the humans, a nearly-tangible thing that he and Victor shared? Was it different because Yuuri had seen Victor's devotion in the form of his skating? Was it different because of the kiss Victor had stolen before he'd left?

Whatever the reason, Yuuri found that he couldn't let go. No matter what menial task he tried to distract himself, his thoughts kept drifting back to Victor. Victor, and the way his long hair had twirled around himself as he skated. Victor, and the way he'd gently smiled when Yuuri held his hand. Victor, and the way Yuuri had lit up inside when Victor had kissed him.

Victor's parting gift still sat unopened in the trunk of the sedan where Yuuri kept his belongings at camp; he'd been reluctant to look at it, as though the act of unrolling it would somehow spoil the very nature of it, the very Victor-ness of it. He'd left it there for weeks, trying to forget it just as he'd tried to forget Victor, but after spending most of a scouting trip circling the iced-over clearing where they'd first met, Yuuri had reached some invisible breaking point. He took the paper from the trunk, carried it up to the roof of the parking garage, and unrolled it as carefully as he could.

It was an advertisement for an ice skating show, once brightly colored but now faded with the passage of time. The image depicted a young human man in a silver costume on the left side and a young human woman with red hair on the right, both elegantly posed with one arm raised. They both looked beautiful, strong, confident, somehow full of life despite being a photograph printed on a sheet of paper. The date printed at the bottom of the poster, Yuuri noted grimly, was two weeks after all the humans began to die. It was very likely that this event had never actually happened.

Beneath the date was a location, complete with an address, and for the first time since Victor had left, Yuuri felt something resembling hope. He loaded the address into his scanning software and began to run before the map had even finished loading.

Daylight in their dying world was nothing like the daylight that Yuuri remembered from before, but nighttime was almost eerily similar. In fact, without the light pollution that had plagued the city, the night was brighter now, and certainly more beautiful. Yuuri dashed through the streets beneath the glittering sweep of stars, following the path that his map had laid out, leaving behind everything that was familiar to him, until he found himself on the distant outskirts of the city staring at the crumbling walls of what had once been a sports arena.

And from just beyond those walls, Yuuri could hear the faint sound of Victor's skating music.

The building was in such a state of disrepair that was it was nearly impossible to determine where the entrances were meant to be, if any still existed. His eyes swept across the exterior, scanning instinctively, until he spotted a staircase through a crack in the wall. He sprinted for it, the music getting louder with each step, then leapt through the opening and climbed to the top of the stairs.

The ice of the rink was a stunning expanse of white in the darkness; everything was frozen in their world, but not like this, purposefully constructed and kept. Yuuri had never been to an arena before, but from the ruins of this one he could imagine what it must have been like, rows and rows of seats filled with humans and the occasional android, all watching the person or people performing or competing on the ice. All of them, amazed and entertained and happy.

Now, it was just Yuuri, standing in the aisle, watching Victor dance on the ice.

It was beautiful, just as it had been the first time, graceful and elegant and everything Yuuri knew the human ice skaters must have been, too. But there was something else, this time: a sadness, a loneliness, a longing that Yuuri hadn't seen before. Or maybe it had been there all along, and Yuuri just hadn't noticed.

He stepped forward slowly as he watched, drawn by the beauty and sorrow in Victor's performance. Maybe, if he hadn't been so transfixed, he might have noticed the way the floor creaked beneath his feet, or the ominous noise when he leaned against the railing. But, if he hadn't been so transfixed, right from the very first time he saw Victor, he wouldn't be here at all.

With a horrible groan, the balcony collapsed from beneath Yuuri, and the last thing he saw was Victor turning towards him, terror plain on his face.

\--
    
    
    Booting system...
    Commencing system check...
    All systems green...
    Initializing...

Yuuri opened his eyes and saw nothing. Then one eye focused, refocused, displaying the featureless ceiling above him in black and white, then in color. The other eye followed, returning his depth perception. Then his auditory processes switched back on, the sounds around him starting quietly and then slowly increasing until they were the volume they ought to be.

Yuuko's face came into his field of view, her eyebrows knitted together in concern, and then separating in relief. "I was starting to worry I'd gotten your wires crossed."

 _You'd never make that mistake,_ Yuuri wanted to say, but his verbal functions hadn't come back online yet. It had been a long time since he'd been rebooted, and he'd forgotten how much he hated it.

At the thought of being rebooted, the memory of what had happened at the arena came rushing back. Victor had been there, Victor had seen him fall, Victor must be the one who'd brought him back to the camp. Where was Victor? He wanted to ask, wanted to beg, but his mouth physically could not form the words.

"Irresponsible," Minako's voice snapped from somewhere on Yuuri's right. He couldn't turn his head to look at her, but he knew exactly the face she must be making. "I suppose we could've salvaged your scanning equipment if we hadn't been able to repair you, but where would that leave us? Then again, if we hadn't repaired you then we wouldn't be so short on supplies now, so maybe it all evens out in the end." It was all a front, Yuuri knew; Minako wouldn't have let Yuuko repair Yuuri if she didn't think it was worth it. If she didn't care about Yuuri, in her own way. Then again, he thought as he watched the ugly look on Yuuko's face, maybe Yuuko would've repaired Yuuri with or without Minako's permission.

"You really did a number on yourself," Yuuko chided as she held a miniature wrench in front of one of Yuuri's eyes, moving it back and forth to test that they were focusing correctly. "I was really worried for a while. Pretty much all of your memory chips had to be replaced. Whatever whacked you on the head got you good."

The creak and crash of the floor beneath him. The feeling of weightlessness as he fell. The sight of Victor's face, terrified, and then nothing. Yuuri closed his eyes for a moment. "You could've deleted that memory," he said, surprising himself with his own voice. His words came out more slowly than usual, the cadence more digital. Still recovering, he figured.

Yuuko pressed her lips together, her face deadly serious. "I had to spend a lot of time," she said hesitantly, "trying to decide what memories were most suited for deletion."

Even through the warm hum of Yuuri's body coming back online, he somehow felt very cold. It made sense, of course. Yuuri had damaged nearly all his memory chips, and the camp's stash hadn't been especially robust to begin with. If Yuuko had run out of replacements, something would've had to go. What was it? It was pointless to scan his own memories, because he would have no way to identify something that was missing. Whatever it had been, it was gone, and asking about it would only make it worse.

"Luckily," Kenjirou piped up from somewhere near Yuuri's feet, "she didn't have to."

Abruptly, Yuuri sat up, nearly knocking over Yuuko in the process. "What are you talking about?"

Kenjirou was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wheel of an SUV, his tablet in his hand. "Well, first of all, that cell phone that mysteriously disappeared a few weeks back? The one I thought was an indexing error? It turned up back in the stash, just lying on top of a bunch of other stuff. I dunno how I messed that up so bad. Even with that one, though, we would've been one short. Luckily for you," he paused to gesture with his tablet, "turns out your friend was holding out on us."

Yuuri quickly looked to where Kenjirou had pointed: Victor, leaning against a nearby pillar and trying to appear unconcerned, though the look in his eyes betrayed him as anything but.

"Um," Yuuri said, suddenly overcome, hoping that his awkwardness could be written off as aftereffects of his injury and subsequent reboot, "can I have a minute? To talk to Victor? By ourselves?"

"Suit yourself," Minako said, waving one hand at both Yuuko and Kenjirou in a shooing motion. The three of them left with various levels of reluctance, Yuuko most of all; only once they were completely out of sight did Victor finally approach Yuuri's cot.

Even alone, neither of them could seem to decide what to say, until Yuuri couldn't stand the silence any longer. "You gave it up," he said, his voice finally sounding normal to his own ears again. "Your phone. With the music on it."

"Of course I did," Victor retorted, with an edge that surprised Yuuri. "I would've had Yuuko rip my chips out of my own head, if it had come to it." There was a soft creaking sound, and Yuuri glanced down to see that Victor was gripping hard on the edge of the cot. Then, incongruously, he laughed, followed by a smile that made Yuuri think of the sun. Not the sun as it was now, but Yuuri's memories of it, warm and blinding-bright. "I don't need artifacts to remember the humans. We can keep their memory alive, just the two of us."

"No," Yuuri said, reaching out to take Victor's hands from the edge of the cot, then twining both sets of their fingers together. "We should tell everyone. Remind them. Even if it's just stories." His eyes widened, and he tugged on Victor's arms excitedly. "You could skate for them."

Victor leaned in, resting his forehead against Yuuri's. "Skate it with me," he said softly, just before he leaned in for a kiss.

And in that moment, Yuuri knew he'd been wrong all along. His existence had always had a purpose, and it wasn't just to scan the city for useable garbage. His purpose was, and always had been, to remember. To keep hope alive. To keep _living,_ no matter how hard it might be. And maybe, wrapped up in all that, his purpose had been to do all that with Victor at his side.

"You'll have to teach me how to skate," Yuuri said against Victor's lips. "I'm going to be awful."

Victor tilted his head up to kiss Yuuri's forehead. "Starting today, I'll be your coach."

**Author's Note:**

> I've never felt more welcomed by a fandom than when I participated in 2017's Victuuri Week. thanks very much to anyone who read Second Thoughts (or song-weaver, I guess!) last year and followed me along, and thanks to anyone who's never read Second Thoughts but decided to check out my weird Androids Having An Existential Crisis AU.
> 
> shout out to Yoko Taro and everyone else involved in Nier Automata for ruining my entire life to the point that I saw "Sci-Fi" in the AU prompt list and thought, ah yes, of course, sad robots. also sorry to Yoko Taro and everyone else involved in Nier Automata for the hot mess I've made. (and to anyone reading this who hasn't played Nier Automata: y'all got off _light_ with my story.)
> 
> I don't do tumblr much anymore but this is the part where I normally put my tumblr: [akisazame.tumblr.com](http://akisazame.tumblr.com)


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